


rearrange the sky

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2019-01-22 13:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12482180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Ohkura takes Taguchi ‘out’ for his birthday.





	rearrange the sky

**Author's Note:**

> reposted by agck.

“Come on, loser, we’re going clubbing.”

Taguchi raises an eyebrow at his homeboy. “It’s my birthday.”

“Exactly.” Ohkura shrugs on a blazer and runs his fingers through his permed hair. “I’m ready.”

“What’s wrong with staying in?” Taguchi asks. “I’m too old for the bar scene.”

“You’re twenty-six,” Ohkura chides him. “Just because you’re in a long-term relationship doesn’t mean you can’t go out and have fun.”

“No, Tacchon, that’s _exactly_ what it means.” Taguchi sighs as he flips through his phone. “She tried to get out of it, but her family comes first. You know how it goes in those yakuza households.”

“Yeah.” Ohkura nods. “So let’s go.”

“Clubbing is just an excuse to have dirty, unprotected sex in a public bathroom,” Taguchi keeps protesting. “Rena said I can only cheat on her if the other person has a dick.”

Ohkura laughs and slaps Taguchi on the back. “There’s an option. Come _on_. You know I won’t let you do anything stupid.”

“Famous last words,” Taguchi says, but he’s already being dragged into his closet.

*

He doesn’t realize it’s a gay bar until they play ‘It’s Raining Men’, and Ohkura laughs at him for the entire duration of the song.

“You mean the well-oiled men in G-strings swinging around in cages didn’t clue you in?” Ohkura howls. “The drag queen waitresses?”

“They’re very convincing,” Taguchi insists. “Why did you even bring me here?”

“Because of an age-old secret that only women have had – up until now.” Ohkura leans in over the brim of his fruity drink. “If you want to dance and not be hit on, go to a gay bar with a friend of the same gender!”

“That is kind of genius,” Taguchi admits. “No wonder everyone’s been shooting jealous looks at you since we walked in the door. They think we’re _together_.”

Ohkura rolls his eyes. “Please, they’re shooting jealous looks at _you_.”

“Not in that blazer they’re not.”

“Excuse me,” a third voice says, and Taguchi whips around to find a buff guy in a muscle shirt eyeballing him. “I don’t mean to intrude, but the bouncer who carded you mentioned that it’s your birthday. You’re entitled to a free drink if you’d like.”

Taguchi shoots Ohkura an I-told-you-so look, but Ohkura’s already grabbing his shoulder and leering at this guy. “He doesn’t need any free drinks – he’s with me.”

The stranger laughs and holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, bro. I’m just one of the bartenders here. I have a boyfriend.”

He points to one of the cage dancers, currently whipping around the impressive bulge in his hot pink G-string, and both Ohkura and Taguchi’s eyes widen in a combination of curiosity and fear.

“Okay, sure,” Taguchi agrees, hopping down from his stool and casting a pointed look over his shoulder. “This guy is a cheapskate anyway.”

Ohkura gives it right back. “I make up for it in other ways.”

Trying not to make a face, Taguchi follows the bartender up to the bar and orders something strong and dirty. There’s a drag queen on the next stool, smiling up at him as he sucks suggestively on a straw. Taguchi blinks, accepts his free drink, and struts back to Ohkura.

“This was a _great_ idea,” he yells over the music, starting to groove where he stands. “I’m going to go dance.”

“Be careful,” Ohkura warns, the smirk never leading his face. “I think our plan may have backfired. I’ve gotten my ass grabbed four times since we’ve been here, and I haven’t moved from this spot.”

“If you don’t want your ass grabbed, you shouldn’t wear those jeans,” Taguchi teases, downing the rest of his drink before weaving through the crowd of colorful, gyrating men to the dance floor. It’s easy to dance to this kind of music and he loves it, moving his body and letting loose after weeks of choreographed routines and Kame’s bitching.

Then he feels hands at his waist and starts to shake them off. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend-”

“It’s me,” Ohkura’s low voice responds, his grip growing tighter. “You shouldn’t dance like that if you don’t want someone to come up behind you.”

The bright lights and adrenaline mix nicely with the girly drinks and Ohkura’s possessiveness and it feels natural to lean back into the embrace, feeling Ohkura move with him. Ohkura presses flush against his back and Taguchi feels hot breath on the back of his neck, which is moderately arousing and Taguchi’s tilting his head the other way invitingly before he’s actively aware of what he’s doing.

The first touch of Ohkura’s lips is like a shock, but not enough for Taguchi to lose his rhythm. This song blends into another, a much slower beat with a lot of bass that thumps in Taguchi’s head as Ohkura’s fingers slip under his shiny mesh shirt and make contact with the skin of his abdomen. He’s aware enough to know what’s happening and buzzed enough to like it, purposely rolling his hips back towards Ohkura and feeling a whoosh of pride when a deep groan rumbles the top of his spine.

“You may want to stop that before I make good on your woman’s condition,” Ohkura growls, sending a chill coursing through Taguchi, who sneaks a hand back to hook a finger through Ohkura’s belt.

“Why?” he hisses facetiously, turning his head so Ohkura can hear him over the loud music. “You have the required equipment, don’t you?”

In response, Ohkura grinds against him, the undeniable hard bump fitting promisingly between Taguchi’s ass cheeks. “What do you think.”

“I think you need to give me my birthday present,” Taguchi says pointedly, yanking Ohkura forward by his belt loop. “And not in a dirty club bathroom.”

Ohkura scoffs. “Please, I’m classier than that. I have an SUV with fold-down seats.”

He’s close enough to lick Taguchi’s lips, which draws Taguchi into his mouth and he’s taken aback by the ferocity of Ohkura’s kiss. It’s not the first time he’s kissed a man, but it’s the first time with Ohkura – his _friend_ – and contrary to his lazy, careless nature, Ohkura’s mouth is crushing against his over his shoulder, his tongue persistent as it demands admission.

Taguchi vaguely recognizes the catcalls in the distance and pulls away with a low laugh. “Let’s go before this becomes a performance. There are some things I won’t do on stage.”

“There’s a surprise,” Ohkura mocks, and Taguchi drags Ohkura all the way out of the bar by his belt loop. Ohkura beeps open his SUV just before Taguchi reaches for the handle, but Ohkura’s the one to push him inside, laying him out on the wide backseat and crawling right on top of him as he closes the door behind him.

Another button sends a flood of bass bumping through the speakers, and Taguchi raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked gangsta rap.”

“Better to fuck to,” Ohkura replies, leaning down to press his lips to Taguchi’s neck as he slides his hands under his shirt again. “The bass heightens the experience.”

Taguchi’s inclined to agree, the entire length of his backside vibrating in time with the beat as Ohkura captures his mouth again and kisses him deeply. Tongues chase each other around and Taguchi’s hands end up on Ohkura’s thighs, which straddle Taguchi’s lap and he smirks into their kiss at the positioning.

“Want to go for a ride, Tacchon?” he asks, palms sliding back to grab Ohkura by that hot ass of his and make his intentions clear.

“I guess, since it’s your birthday, I can make some effort,” Ohkura reluctantly agrees, and Taguchi presses a tame slap to his ass for the attitude. Instantly Ohkura’s eyes darken, sending coils of heat surging through Taguchi’s veins, and he leans down to direct his next words into Taguchi’s lips. “Shouldn’t the birthday boy get the spankings?”

“You seem to like it more than I do,” Taguchi replies, slapping him a little harder this time, and Ohkura’s tongue is back in his mouth before he can say anything else. Fingers unfasten his belt in record speed and the next thing he knows, they’re around his length, and he arches at the contact while his own hands rush to get into those tight jeans.

“You know what you’re doing back there?” Ohkura asks, sounding only a little sarcastic, and Taguchi rolls his eyes.

“It’s not hard,” Taguchi starts, then grins at the opportunity to pun. “Well…”

“Oh, I’m inclined to disagree,” Ohkura says, kissing the corner of Taguchi’s mouth as he reaches into the console. “It’s _very_ hard, if you do it right.”

This is totally why they’re best friends. Taguchi laughs as Ohkura uncaps the tube and grabs his hand, coating three of his fingers with slick lube. It’s shoved between Ohkura’s legs and Taguchi takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for preparing _him_. Ohkura hisses at the first touch, but relaxes enough for Taguchi to press one long finger inside, making it to the second knuckle before easing in another. He feels Ohkura’s body protesting him, but Ohkura himself is gasping into Taguchi’s mouth and kissing him breathless while he squeezes Taguchi’s cock from base to tip.

“I’m not a girl, Taguchi,” Ohkura growls, his voice deeper than before, and Taguchi groans at the sound. “If you want to fuck me, you need to work for it. I don’t exactly do this often.”

Taguchi jabs his fingers harder and Ohkura’s moan dies on his tongue, the body on top of him rocking back and forth in contrast with Taguchi’s efforts. He scissors his fingers and spreads them apart, stretching as he pushes them in and out, and he jumps along with Ohkura when he hits some kind of hot spot.

“Do that again,” Ohkura demands, moaning as Taguchi complies. “ _Fuck_ , that feels good.”

“Yeah?” Taguchi asks, mouthing his way down Ohkura’s jaw to his ear. “How badly do you want me inside you?”

“Pretty fucking badly,” Ohkura gasps, choking on his own air as Taguchi licks his earlobe. “One more finger. You’re kind of big.”

“Yeah I am,” Taguchi replies smugly, wedging in the third finger, and now Ohkura’s pushing back faster than Taguchi’s prodding him. “You’re so hot like this, Tacchon.”

“I know,” Ohkura replies, and Taguchi laughs. Then Ohkura’s tugging on his wrist and hovering over him, and nothing’s funny anymore. Taguchi watches Ohkura smile as warm hands slather lube onto his cock, guide it to the opening, and slowly lower himself down onto it.

“Oh god,” Taguchi mutters, his hands gripping Ohkura’s ass that takes him all the way in. “So fucking tight.”

The thumping bass carries him through the motions, a song that sounds suspiciously like that rapper Jin likes, and Ohkura rides him in time with the beat. Taguchi should have expected him to have rhythm – he _is_ a drummer – and it’s easy enough to meet his actions with a sharp rock of his hips. Ohkura’s back is arched, his head tossed back to expose his throat, and the music is quickly joined by Ohkura’s low groans as he bounces on Taguchi’s lap. It’s good, so good, and Taguchi doesn’t think it can get any better until Ohkura takes his cock in hand and shamelessly strokes himself.

“Fuck,” Taguchi breathes, his thrusts becoming more ragged as he struggles to push through the resistance.

“We _are_ ,” Ohkura points out, followed by a long, deep groan that vibrates him more than the bass. “I’m gonna come, Taguchi.”

Taguchi just moans, feeling Ohkura’s release from the inside, and makes it until the first squirt before seizing Ohkura firmly by the ass, holding him steady as he pounds up into him, choking on his air as he races for the finish. Orgasm crashes into him and it’s bliss, taking him high and leaving him tingling, even as Ohkura flops down on top of him.

They’re still mostly clothed, Ohkura’s jeans hanging off one leg while Taguchi’s are just pushed down, and the temperature inside the SUV is desert heat despite being the middle of winter. Taguchi fights to catch his breath, which is made even more difficult with Ohkura’s full weight on his chest, and finally Taguchi nudges him over enough to inhale deeply.

“Happy birthday,” Ohkura wheezes, looking like he’s content to curl up just like this and go to sleep.

“Hey, you still have to drive me home,” Taguchi says, poking him until he whines and gets up.

“So demanding,” Ohkura grumbles, digging in his pocket for his keys. “I suppose you want a cake, too.”

“Not if you’re baking it,” Taguchi replies, and Ohkura half-ass punches him in the shoulder. “Thanks, Tacchon.”

“You can regift on _my_ birthday,” Ohkura says in a promising tone.

Taguchi thinks Christmas is much sooner.


End file.
